Break The Walls
by LoveOverEverythingElse
Summary: Bruce is once again on the path of self-destruction. Filled with self-hatred, he is tempted to end it all... But Tony just won't let him. Eventual Tony Banner slash; but nothing too heavy.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey, people this is my very first story, and I'm pretty excited! I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and has been my motivation. Note that this is a progressive slash; I'm not diving into the romance within the first few sentences... I feel that takes away from the realism. Reviews are very much appreciated! Enjoy! 3**

** DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Marvel or any of its wonderful characters.**

Bruce thought had come to terms with his curse. He thought he had learned to accept that which couldn't change. Yet there he stood, at square one. The day had given way to night, and thick condensation had clouded his vision. All that surrounded him were dead, leafless trees, which provided no shelter from the elements. It didn't matter. The sky wept, much as he did internally, soaking every inch of his shivering body. His gaze never wavered from the gun in his hand. The sleek metal was comforting in a way. He could rid himself of the recurring nightmares, the pain of suppressed emotions, the trauma of lives lost, of lives destroyed… all with a single bullet. It felt… good; for once in his life, he was in complete control. The moment quickly passed as wretched realization struck him: His first attempt had got him nowhere; how would this be any different? "Second time's the charm," he muttered under his breath. The man would not be deterred. If he could find no cure, if he was a constant threat to others, he would have to die.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Bruce?" An all-too-familiar voice from behind startled the physicist out of his trance. _Tony…_

"How'd you find me…?" Bruce halfheartedly asked, removing the safety on the gun. He had travelled halfway across the country, to a remote area even _he _was hardly knowledgeable about, and made sure to stay hidden. He had no devices in which he could be tracked. It wasn't that much of a shock; if Tony wanted to find someone, he would.

"Doesn't matter. Don't answer my question with a question."

"Well, Tony," Bruce chuckled, "I'm sure it's pretty obvious to you what I'm doing." He offered not so much as a glance in the other man's direction. Cocking the gun, he continued, "I'm trying to solve a _very _big problem." The gun was raised to his temple, and his finger hovered over the trigger. He was turned to face the billionaire. He could tell that Tony was genuinely concerned for him; the look in his eye said it all without him having to say a word. It was still a mystery why Tony even bothered. Bruce had fractured the man's skull, broke quite a few of his ribs, and crushed his leg some 6 ½ months ago. Even now, he was still recovering.

"Do you realize just how stupid and selfish you sound right now?" Tony scoffed.

"No, I guess I don't." There was no point in going on the way he did. The pain was too great. So what if he was being selfish? So what if he was being stupid? None of it would matter in the end.

"…Drop the gun, Bruce." Tony demanded. This only made Bruce grip the weapon tighter. The billionaire's dark eyes peered into Bruce's, searching for the slightest glint of recognition. All he found was hopelessness. Tony knew his suicide attempt would fail; Bruce had said it himself. That wasn't what worried him. It was the simple fact that Bruce wanted to die.

"I'm not sure I want to." Bruce mumbled.

Tony's metal-clad hand clasped around Bruce's wrist, hoping he would comply. "Please, Bruce. Drop it."

It was obvious that Tony would have it no other way. Releasing a shallow breath, Bruce finally spoke. "Fine. You win." The gun fell from his hand, his head bowed as he stifled a sob. "It probably wouldn't work anyway."

Tony released his grip on the doctor. "Maybe you should stop trying to solve a problem that's already solved itself." This made the doctor laugh.

"Has it? Has it really solved itself?"

"If you were to look at it from a different perspective, then yes, it has. Honestly, Bruce, it bothers me to see you like this. Promise me that I'll never see _that,_" Tony pointed to the gun on the ground, "in your hand again. I mean it."

Bruce raised his head, staring into the soft blue light that shone on Tony's chest. "I'll… do my best. That's all I can promise."

"Good enough. I'm taking you back to New York. Any opposition will be bluntly ignored."


	2. Chapter 2

The flight back was long and unpleasant. The cold, pelting rain and relentless winds hadn't made it any easier. After what seemed like days, the two geniuses had arrived. They were on the 92nd floor of Stark Tower, one of the more leisurely sections of the building. Filled with amenities that catered to every need, the area was a stress-free zone—according to Tony. Bruce, having changed into dry clothes, (courtesy of Tony Stark; he was surprised it was a perfect fit) stood silently as Tony prepared a fresh cup of coffee for him. He had insisted that he was content, but the billionaire had decided he wasn't. "Black or sweetened?" Tony called over his shoulder. "Lightly sweetened. Thanks." Bruce muttered.

Bruce wasn't particularly happy to be back. He expected to be patronized and interrogated until his life story was disclosed and pitied. And so he waited for the moment he knew would come. Tony limped over to him, handing him his cup of coffee, and the two men took a seat in the living room. Quietly sipping at his coffee, the doctor hadn't said a single word; he didn't want to break the silence. Silence was very precious to him. It gave him a chance to contemplate, a chance to assess. He wouldn't stay in the Tower. He couldn't. Tony didn't deserve to live in constant danger. Especially Tony; he was the only person who had completely looked past the Other Guy. But that didn't make the man invincible.

"Is it bad? The coffee, I mean. You're just gawking at it."

Bruce was pulled back to the present. Offering a weak smile, he replied. "Oh… No, it's perfect." He took a long sip of the steaming drink. Feeling the other man's eyes on him, he continued staring into his coffee; he hated being observed. He never knew how much the other person could figure out from a simple glance.

Noticing the doctor's change in body language, Tony spoke up once more. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not gonna force you to talk to me about whatever you're going through. Just know that whenever you _do_ want to talk, I'm here."

"Thanks, but I don't…" Bruce trailed off, releasing a helpless sigh.

"Oh, and another thing," Tony continued, "I knew you'd go running off again once given the chance, so I took the liberty of locking every exit out of the building with a password only I know. Isn't that right, Jarvis?" He looked to the ceiling with a satisfied smile.

A British-accented voice spoke up. _"That is correct, Sir."_ The man sank further into the sofa, glancing at Bruce's disdained expression. "Don't look at me like that. You know you were gonna pull your little disappearing act as soon as I fell asleep. I wasn't letting that happen again."

"Tony, you can't just lock me in here." The doctor sighed once more, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, but I can. I really can't stand the thought of you wanting to hurt yourself."

"And how exactly is keeping me locked inside your tower going to change anything?"

"I'll be able to keep an eye on you. Can't exactly help you if you up and leave."

Bruce carefully set his cup of coffee on the small glass table in front of him and stood. "I'm not some lost puppy Tony."

"No, but you _are_ my friend. You can piss and moan all you want, but I'm not letting you harm yourself, physically or otherwise." Tony straightened in his seat. "So go on, throw your little fit. I'm not letting you run off again."

"Tony, you know I wouldn't do that… Look, I just _can't stay_. I nearly killed you."

"_Nearly._ What happened that day doesn't matter anymore. Do yourself a favor and stop dwelling on it." Tony could never harbor any animosity for the man. Bruce understood him better than anyone could. He was his intellectual equal, a man of mystery. The more time he spent with him the more he figured out; he was intriguing, to say the least. Any of those characteristics could outshine his much greener one. He would do all he could to make the man forget whatever pain he was going through… maybe even completely rid him of it. Banner just had to stay put.

Jarvis spoke up once more. _"Sir, an incoming call from Director Fury." _ A large transparent monitor descended in front of the billionaire. Rolling his eyes, Tony pressed 'accept', expecting an overabundance of complaints. A very pissed looking man had appeared on the screen. "Whatever it is, make it quick." Tony grumbled. "I'm trying to have a heart-to-heart with someone over here."

"I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Stark. You've been ignoring my calls for days. I thought I had made it clear that cooperation was needed if the Avengers Initiative was going to work."

Glancing at his watch, Tony sighed. "Are you planning on getting to the point anytime soon? I'm kinda busy."

Bruce had observed Tony's and Fury's little back and forth; it was funny how quickly Tony had turned into an asshole. Not that he wasn't an asshole to Bruce. When it came to him, Tony was never an asshole without good intention. Bruce shook his head at the idea. No matter how good a person's intentions may be, the outcome may not necessarily be positive, and Tony just _didn't_ _get that._ Bruce was a lost cause, and he had to leave before his friend figured that out the hard way... again. Returning to the present moment, the doctor had caught the last few words spoken. As the minutes ticked by, it became more and more difficult to stay focused.

"… Fine, fine, I'll do it. But only because you so _desperately_ need my expertise."

"Just get it done, Stark." Fury's face faded from the screen, and with a snap, the monitor rose to the ceiling.

"Jeez, what rod does he have stuck up _his_ ass?" Tony mumbled to himself.

"Well, you _did_ ignore his calls."

"Don't take his side." Standing and stretching, the billionaire had realized just how exhausted he was. The week was filled with tedious work that had drained him both mentally and physically. The only good thing he got out of the week was finding Bruce. He was glad he had placed that tracker in his clothing, as well as lucky it wasn't discovered. With a limp in his step, Tony made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge. Returning to his place on the sofa, he motioned for the doctor to join him again. With a bit of coaxing, he complied.

Bruce was not nearly as relaxed as his extroverted counterpart. He too, had glanced at his watch. It was three past two in the morning, a time in which he _would_ be fast asleep… if each dream he had wasn't plagued with terrible happenings of the past. He had avoided sleep for days out of sheer fear, with caffeine being his only assistance in staying awake. Being human, sleep was inevitable, and his body was growing weary. He would soon have to relive those painful moments. Wringing his hands and bouncing his leg, his anxiety was less than subtle. "Hey, got somethin' on your mind?" Tony asked, downing the rest of the can. The doctor merely shook his head in dismissal. "Here's someone who's willing to lend an ear, and you won't tell him what's bothering you."

Bruce really didn't like to talk about his problems. Whenever he did, the conversation was brisk and vague. As Dr. Banner, confidentiality was his only defense. As the Other Guy, he was his every defense. The contrast between his two personalities was infinite. At the moment, however, there was no apparent threat. Tony's sincerity has been proven through and through… So why build walls that were not needed? He supposed it was instinct. It would be far too much work to tear the walls down now; he had made them nearly impervious. "It isn't anything you can help me with," he finally said. Rubbing his stinging eyes, he chuckled heartily. "You really shouldn't waste your energy on me, Tony… As a matter of fact, how's Pepper?" The billionaire seemed to stiffen at the question.

"…Okay, I completely see through your little attempt at dodging the subject. If you don't want me to _pester_ you, you could just leave the Tower. Oh, wait… Guess it's unavoidable, Bruce."

"Your reductio ad absurdum indicates that I've struck a nerve."

Tony feigned a look of astonishment. "Well aren't _you_ quite the analyst?" His expression faded into solemnity. "Fine, I admit she and I are having some complications right now. The real mystery is what's going on with you."

The doctor sighed. "… I have nightmares. That's what's bothering me right now. Happy?"

Tony hummed in acknowledgement. "Now we're getting somewhere... Elaborate."


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce and Tony had conversed for about another half hour, until the doctor could hardly keep his eyes open .Willing himself to stay awake, the doctor grabbed his cup of forgotten coffee and stood, guzzling the lukewarm beverage.

Tony looked up at the doctor. Exhaustion grew more and more apparent on his face. "You need to get some rest. We both do."

"Weren't you listening?" Bruce mumbled. "I can't sleep."

"Then let me at least take you to your room."

"No."

"Are you gonna be this stubborn the whole time? 'Cause I don't mind dragging you there."

"I'm still puzzled as to why you even care. You should take a hint from everyone else and stay away from me."

Unmoved by the doctor's words, Tony scoffed. "I'm not much of a conformist. Believe it or not, I'm actually quite fond of you, Banner, and I want to help you." The doctor began pacing back and forth. "What's there to be fond of?" He countered. "I really don't understand. What good could you possibly find in me?" Tony caught the doctor's eyes. "Plenty. You'd be surprised." The two had known each other for nearly four years. The only thing he couldn't stand about Bruce was his self-loathing.

Bruce gave up; nothing he said dissuaded Tony, and he didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight. Dizziness had gripped the sleep-deprived doctor, forcing him to lean against a nearby wall. Tony's voice echoed in his ears, but he couldn't respond. Closing his eyes, he became deadweight, and fell to the floor.

…

Tony had carried the doctor to his room. With a damaged leg, it was no easy feat. It had been 15 minutes, and already had Bruce begun to twist and turn in his slumber. Eyebrows furrowed, Bruce muttered inaudibly. Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, and he recoiled. "Bruce?" The billionaire whispered. Shaking the doctor, he once again called his name. "Bruce, it's alri—" The doctor had awoken, and his hands immediately wrapped around Tony's throat. His eyes glowed a bright green, but the color quickly faded as recognition struck him. Releasing his grip, Bruce stared apologetically into the other man's eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. Shouldn't have scared you like that."

"Stop doing that, Tony. You know you aren't at fault."

"Neither are you."

Looking around, Bruce grew confused. "How did I…?"

"I brought you here." Straightening his stance, Tony headed for the door. "Jarvis, let me know if there're any more irregularities in Bruce's sleep patterns." _"Of course, Sir." _

"See you in the morning." Tony shut the door behind him, leaving Bruce to ponder. In all honesty, he loved Tony's company; he even began to think he _needed_ it. Tony was the only one who gave a damn about his wellbeing. He was also the only one he allowed into his personal plights. Yet at the same time, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting the man again. He had caused enough pain, he had seen enough pain, and he certainly wasn't going to inflict it upon someone he cared about. With these thoughts racing through his head, the doctor was once again taken by sleep.

…

"You found him?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah. What's with that tone?"

"I'm just worried is all."

Tony stared at his phone in disbelief. "Well, you shouldn't be. I'm gonna be fine."

"You don't know that, Tony. You thought you were 'gonna be fine' 6 months ago."

"…When will you be back?"

"I'd say about 12 hours…" Distant chattering was heard on her end. "I have to go. This conversation isn't over." But it _was _over. No amount of protest could make Tony abandon Bruce. He and Pepper were very important to him. At times, the billionaire would feel great guilt, as he wasn't quite sure what the doctor meant to him. Now in bed, he stared at the ceiling, the guilt returning. "Dammit, Bruce," he muttered, "what the hell are you doing to me?"


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor had been awoken by the warm kiss of sunlight. Combing his fingers through his unruly hair, he sat up and stretched. He was surprised; he hadn't slept this well in weeks. Taking a look around his room, he smiled. The room was perfect. There wasn't too much, and there wasn't too little. Exactly how he liked it. Another door off to the side led to a well-sized bathroom.

_"Good afternoon, Doctor Banner." _ Startled, Bruce nearly jumped out of bed. He would never get used to Jarvis. "Afternoon…?"

_ "Yes. Mr. Stark wished for me to inform you of his whereabouts. You can find him on the 61st floor. He is working." _ Thanking the AI, Bruce headed for the bathroom and freshened up. After a hot shower, the doctor had felt better, if only slightly so. The emptiness he felt before was disappearing. He both loved it and hated it. He loved it because if only for a fleeting moment, he didn't feel alone. He hated it because in loving it, he may grow attached; his walls would crumble. Having changed into gray slacks, a buttoned teal shirt, and a pair of black oxfords, (he couldn't thank Tony enough) the doctor finally headed downstairs.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Bruce was greeted by loud, blaring music. Noise didn't exactly appeal to him. Turning, the engineer lifted his face shield visor, and smiled. Noticing the doctor's discomfort, he turned the music off. "Hey. Did you rest well?" The doctor nodded. Lowering his visor, Tony continued to work. Curious, Bruce stood beside the engineer. "What exactly are you working on?" Gesturing with a gloved hand, Tony explained. "Oh, just making a few modifications to my suit. I'm hoping to make space travel possible in the thing, but it's turning out to be a real pain in the ass. There're a lot of factors to consider." Bruce removed his glasses and set them on the table in front of him. He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "And you need my help."

"Yep." Tony lied. He knew exactly what he was doing; he was merely being selfish. What he had interest in, he would remain attached to, much like Pepper, much like his suits, much like Bruce. Grabbing a small bag, he offered it to Bruce. "Gummy worm?" "I haven't even had breakfast." "Of course you haven't, it's noon." Tony mocked. "Come on, have some. Be a rebel."

For the first time in a long time, Bruce laughed. If only for a moment, he had forgotten that all this was temporary. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out 5 of the gelatin candies. One by one, they went into his mouth, and once they were gone, he went for more. Before he knew it, the bag was empty. "Sorry," the doctor mumbled, "I have a bit of a sweet tooth… And I'm kind of hungry."

Tony raised an inquisitive brow. "Curiouser and curiouser… You're more impulsive than you lead on. I gotta bring more sweets around you."

Embarrassed, the doctor changed the subject. "Let's just get to work."

"It can wait. I'll go make you some brunch."

"You don't have to-"

"But I do. Besides, Pepper will be home any minute. I might as well whip somethin' up for the both of you."

Removing his gloves and visor, Tony headed downstairs. The doctor decided to take a look around. As expected, it was perfect. The chrome themed lab catered to every scientific need: an NMR spectrometer, an electrostatic analyzer, even an oscilloscope. A screen just beside him showed the image of the prototype suit and all its ideal functions. Observing the engineer's work, he began to wonder if this new interest in space travel was of Tony's free will. He thought back to last night's call from the Director. Perhaps this was what Fury had requested of Tony.

The doctor took a seat in a nearby swivel chair and kept his eyes to the ceiling, staring at nothing in particular. The fleeting moment of happiness had passed, and he had come to his senses. He hated it… and he loved it.

…

_"Sir, Miss Potts is entering the Tower."_

"Perfect! Tell her where I am, will you?"

_"Of course." _

A minute later, Pepper had arrived on the 11th floor, and was greeted with a kiss. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Tony walked her to the kitchen counter. "Hey. How was the flight back?" He headed to the stove.

"Oh, it was great! Something smells good."

…

Brunch was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Tony had insisted that his two favorite people eat together. Neither Pepper nor Bruce spoke a word to each other, except for the usual formalities. Bruce knew Pepper was afraid, and Pepper knew Bruce felt guilty, but neither could address the obvious. Their body language, however, said it all. Tony couldn't stand uncomfortable silences.

"So… are we just gonna stay silent the whole time?"

Stealing a few nervous glances at Pepper, the doctor decided his company wasn't needed. He hurriedly finished his food and headed to the sink. "The food was great," he said, cleaning his dishes, "but I think I'll stay in the lab." He was gone before Tony could object. So much for bonding.

"That went well."

Pepper relaxed in her seat. "I'm sorry, Tony. I don't doubt Dr. Banner is a good man. It's what he turns into that bothers me."

"If you recall, I was the one that provoked him that day." Tony defended.

"Whatever you did or said didn't deserve to get you nearly killed."

"It's funny… you two sound alike."

"Then why don't you take our word for it and leave him be?"

"Well, for starters, I found the man trying to _kill himself._ Again." Pepper was left speechless. Tony continued. "Yeah. This is why I really hoped the two of you could get along for a while… You know, until he's… better. Please trust me when I say nothing will happen." Placing a reassuring kiss on the woman's forehead, he took a seat. "On a happier note, how did the meeting go?"

…

Bruce hated being feared. It made his existence all the more difficult. Many blinded by fear and prejudice, there was a very small handful of people he could trust… But he couldn't blame those who were afraid. Just as the team was thought to be, the man was a time bomb; suppressed emotions from past grievances always bubbled below the surface. He could only forget his anger in the company of those he cared for. Yet those he cared for always ended up hurt. Whatever helped him, he couldn't have. Agitated, he paced back and forth, tugging at his curls.

_"Are you alright, Doctor Banner?"_ The AI chimed in._ "It seems you are_ _experiencing symptoms of anxiety."_

"I suppose Tony told you to monitor me." Bruce sighed. "I'm fine."

_"Very good. Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything."_

"Thanks." After calming himself, the doctor had retrieved his glasses and snuck another look at Tony's prototype. The design, as always was flawless. He began to wonder why Tony even needed him.

"Great, isn't it?" Bruce jumped at Tony's voice; he hadn't even heard him come in. "I don't know why I hadn't started it sooner." Draping an arm over the doctor's shoulder, he too, marveled at his work. "Shall we begin?"

"I really don't think I'd be of much help. This is perfect as it is."

"Well… yeah. But someone to talk to would be nice. And besides," stepping away, Tony grabbed something from a nearby cabinet, "free gummy worms."


	5. Chapter 5

Five weeks had passed. Tony had the Tower to himself, and with that, a chance to reflect. The last few days had been very… constructive. Reluctantly, the man had put business before pleasure, attending monotonous meetings, interviews, and handling a little mishap with a wannabe villain. He had earned his moment of leisure.

The background noise of Aerosmith had soothed him; dead silence wasn't an option. Pouring a shot glass of vodka, his mind began to wander. Were Bruce and Pepper enjoying their friendly dinner together? Was Dum-E tinkering with something that he shouldn't? When was the Chinese food going to get there? And also… were Bruce and Pepper enjoying their friendly dinner together? He was particularly curious about that. His thoughts never wandered far from the two. Tension between the woman and doctor had decreased, but not enough to satisfy him. He wanted them to enjoy each other's company, not just tolerate it. He wanted both their company at the same time. He was very selfish.

One shot of vodka had become two, and two had become three. It was all to drown out the guilt that had only grown as the days went on. But even the most intoxicating drink couldn't efface his inner conflicts. He gave up after his fifth shot. Tony almost wished for the distraction of work; there were some things he wasn't quite ready to admit, not even in the privacy of his own mind. And yet, he had to. He definitely felt something for the doctor. For how long, he wasn't sure; all he knew was that he did. Bruce had no idea what he was doing to him. It was unspeakable torture.

…

Bruce wasn't sure how Tony talked him into having dinner with Pepper. Perhaps it was his charm. Nonetheless, it was going fairly well. Bruce had ordered the seafood platter with water, and Pepper shrimp scampi with white wine. "How's the pasta?" He wasn't much of a conversationalist, but he tried. "It's pretty good," Pepper offered, "it would be better if…" "If…?" The doctor pressed. Sipping at her wine, Pepper sighed and smiled weakly. "I never thought I'd be confiding in you, Doctor." Bruce merely tilted his head, awaiting her explanation. "It's just that… I _miss_ Tony. He's been off lately, like he was three years ago. He's there in physicality, but… that's pretty much it. He's disconnected, and I don't know why. Am I the only one who's seeing this?" A look of desperation filled her eyes; it was obvious she needed validation, something Bruce couldn't provide. Not without lying. Tony seemed lively and bold as usual, perhaps even more so. Nevertheless, he played along. "Huh… He _has_ been acting strange. Have you spoken to him about it?" The woman shook her head. "Whenever I wanted to, he was busy. There's just no getting through to him." Bruce didn't quite know how to respond; he felt dissonance with every word she spoke. The rest of dinner was spent in complete silence.

During the car ride back, Bruce wondered many things. Why was he still in New York? Why had his dreams become more tolerable? Why was he forgetting all his guilt? He stared blankly out of the window. Much like his worries, the many objects outside were soon behind him. His past was finally becoming his past. And he loved it. That one part of him still wanted to think he hated it, but was failing miserably. It had been five weeks. His perspective had changed greatly in those five weeks. The contempt he held for himself dissipated in Tony's presence. All dark thoughts had left him in those moments. He was _happy_ in those moments. It took a few seconds for him to realize they had arrived. The chauffeur opened the doors and bid the two a goodnight.

…

Tony stared impatiently at his watch. It was six past eleven. The Chinese food had arrived, and was eaten. A bit of tinkering was done here and there. A refreshing, warm shower had alerted the senses. The company of music had relaxed and soothed. What was missing? He pretended not to know. Flipping through channels on the television, the billionaire anxiously waited. _"Sir,"_ Jarvis called, _"Miss Potts and Doctor Banner have returned from dinner. They are on their way up." _ He would have been excited, that is, if he wasn't nervous instead. The elevator doors opened.

Pepper hurried to his side, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Hey. You were right, dinner was great." Tony returned the gesture, and smiled. "See? I knew it would be." After a few minutes of whispering clever and insinuative comments in each other's ears, Pepper had decided to head upstairs and change for bed.

…

Bruce kept his gaze averted the entire time. Just where did Pepper see a 'disconnection'? The two seemed perfectly fine together.

"Hey." Tony interrupted. "You've been starin' at the ground for the longest. Something bothering you?"

"No…" The doctor mumbled. That wasn't very convincing. He awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets, and continued. "I know you said that there were some issues between you and Pepper. She even mentioned it to me… said you seem distant. This earned him a peculiar stare from Tony

"Distant? Is that how I come off?"

"Well, according to her. I don't mean to pry, but… might there be something bothering you?"

The billionaire disregarded the question. "Distant…?"

"…Look, she and I are on good terms now. I think it would be in her best interest if you… spent a little more time with her." There was a brief moment of eye contact between the two. There was something there in the billionaire's eyes… something unintelligible. Before Bruce could figure it out, Tony broke the connection and turned his back to face him. He knew he couldn't help much. Perhaps it would be good to have someone to listen to, the same courtesy he was provided. "Tony," he tried again, bolder this time, "again I ask… is there something wrong?" He felt it wasn't enough, not after all Tony had done for him. But what else could he do? With a smile, Tony simply answered: "No." He slipped past the doctor, and headed for the elevator.

…

Tony was trembling. Why was he trembling? He wasn't a swooning schoolgirl. It was something he had no control over, and he hated it. He thanked the starred heavens that Bruce was completely unaware. He really had to get a hold of himself. And he would. None of it happened. And he would act as though it hadn't. Tomorrow would be a new day; it would be as if he wasn't harboring feelings for the other man, and his pulse didn't quicken in his presence. Though he couldn't help but wonder: Why was it growing more difficult to do so? The thought was discarded as soon as it appeared. Tomorrow would be ordinary… it had to be. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out. He had arrived on the 102nd floor. Leaning against a nearby wall, he sighed. Ah, guilt. Terrible guilt. It found him again, and he found himself suffocating under its heavy weight.

Maybe he _was_ being distant. Of course he wouldn't notice. He was often too engulfed in the moment, too engulfed in Bruce to notice. Even he noticed his mood improve around the fascinating doctor. He was such a wonderful enigma, an interesting puzzle. He knew he had helped the doctor immensely, and he enjoyed the fact that he was the only one who could get the doctor to open up, to smile. And Tony loved it when he smiled. These feelings had to have existed before, he thought. Why else would it come so quickly to him? Something had been revived, reignited in these five short weeks. And it was tearing him in two.


	6. Chapter 6

Brown, tired eyes opened to the faint light of early morning. The doctor groaned exasperatedly. He had a… difficult night. The bed was suddenly so comfortable; he didn't want to move a muscle. Staring blankly ahead at a bare wall, he sighed. It took a few minutes to will himself to sit upright. His eyes wandered around the room, and he grew panicked. The bed's headboard had been cracked, the dresser beside the bed was crushed, and his sheets were shredded. With his memory still fuzzy, he couldn't quite recall what had happened. He hoped to God he hadn't hurt anyone. Getting out of bed, he examined the room completely. Except for a large crack in the wall, nothing else had been destroyed; he had apparently calmed down before any real damage could be done. Seeing as he wouldn't be getting anymore sleep, he went to the bathroom and completed his morning ritual. After a few minutes of searching for his glasses, he found them on the floor, snapped in two. Good thing he had a spare pair (insistence of Tony Stark). A quiet knock from behind caught his attention.

Leaning against the doorframe was Tony, a mug of coffee in one hand, and a rolled magazine in the other. His wild mess of black hair stuck out in all directions; either he slept well or tossed and turned all night. The glow of his arc reactor was only amplified in the limited light, and his entire face was bathed in a blue hue. Bruce couldn't help but wonder how long he was there.

Sipping the steaming drink, Tony peeked over the brim of the mug, observing the doctor. Lowering the mug, he finally spoke. "Morning."

"…Morning." Bruce mumbled, catching the other's dark eyes. With his damaged glasses in hand, he took the opportunity to break eye contact, setting the spectacles on his dresser.

Tony took a gander at the destroyed objects, and shrugged his shoulders. "This stuff can easily be replaced." "I wasn't worried about the 'stuff'," Bruce sighed. He walked over to his dresser and stared wearily at his reflection in the mirror. Tony took another sip of his coffee, carefully watching the doctor. "I just got… scared is all. I was afraid I hurt someone again. It's happened too many times already." "With me around? Please. I already told you to stop worrying." Stepping away from the mirror, Bruce smiled. It was very subtle, but still there. "I _have_ been worrying less, you know. You've taken a lot of weight off my shoulders. But still… it—"

"Hey," Tony interrupted, "the whole 'worrying less' bit was good enough. Don't ruin the moment." The billionaire shifted his weight and grimaced. Gripping the wall for support, he slowly turned, cussing under his breath. Bruce was immediately by his side. He took the cup and magazine and began to ponder. "There's something you're not telling me," he finally said, helping Tony to the lounge room down the hall. He set the beverage and magazine on the coffee table and continued. "I don't like that." Taking a seat, the billionaire buried his face in one hand. "Bruce, it's too early for this." "You're still in a lot of pain, aren't you? You've been hiding it." The silence afterward had answered his question. He had _crippled_ the man. Too many times… The doctor had seen it too many times to tolerate another incident, or at least a reminder of a previous one. Any resolved resentment toward himself began to return.

…

"Fine," Tony groaned, "you caught me." Tony reached into his pocket, pulling out a small baggie with two pills inside. Reaching for his cup, he swallowed them, back to back. "It isn't as bad as it looks," he attempted. This didn't seem to ease the doctor's tension; he was beginning to close himself off again. "This is exactly why I never told you," Tony sighed. "What you're doing right now actually hurts me more than a bad leg. Do me a favor and knock it off." After a few moments of apparent consideration, the doctor's eyes softened. They were beautiful, a mixture of emotions and unspoken words. Why was he so hard on himself? No one deserved this much criticism, especially from themselves. The billionaire was foreign to the concept. He was shameless. He lived life without regret, whereas every second of Bruce's life was filled with remorse. It had to be something bigger; the Other Guy couldn't be the root of _all_ his problems. Pain ran deep… there was always something just below the surface that couldn't quite be seen. It was something that would be forever burned in the mind and would forever influence a person's actions... for better or for worse. Still staring into the doctor's eyes, he finally asked, "Why do you hate yourself?"

Bruce stiffened even more, nervously lacing his fingers together. "Seriously, Bruce," Tony pressed, "I want an answer from you."

"…I became like my father." A rancorous smile tugged at the doctor's lips as he took a seat left of Tony. "He… wasn't a good guy."

"Wait," Tony interjected, "who said you weren't a good guy?" The doctor threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. "… Enough about me." His voice was low with aggravation. "I'm tired of talking about me." But Tony wasn't. There was no denying the fascination he had with the doctor. He knew he could fix him, and he would. He was, after all, an engineer. Still, he had dropped the subject. "Fair enough." The two sat quietly, and for once, Tony was okay with that. There was no need or desire to speak. He only enjoyed the guilty pleasure of Bruce's company. Bruce's breaths grew progressively slower, more relaxed. Stealing a glance in his direction, it was then Tony realized the doctor's eyes were closed. What a beautiful human being. Was he asleep? "Bruce?"

"I'm just thinking," he smoothly replied.

What the hell was he thinking so deeply about? As much as Tony would've liked to know, he forced the curiosity down, though his eyes never left the pondering doctor.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" The billionaire asked, befuddled.

"I can tell when you're staring at me. It's very unnerving; you know I don't like it."

Tony obliged, turning his attention to his magazine. "Afraid I might figure out what you're thinking?" He teased.

"Yes."

A bit caught off guard, Tony couldn't help but return his attention to the unfazed doctor. "…Well, I'm pretty sure you and I both know that I do that already."

…

"Yes," Bruce repeated, "and I don't like it." The doctor wet his lips, and sighed. Opening his eyes, he glanced out a small window to the left of him, his face bathed in a brilliant gold. God, it was beautiful. He hadn't been paying much attention to things like that. Nature and seclusion. For a long time, those two things had equaled peace for him. But it was changing. Everything was changing. It was terrible. It was wonderful. It was terribly wonderful. He wanted to preserve this feeling brewing inside him, yet he wanted to bury it, to forget it. So full of contradictions. This safe haven, this sanctuary called Tony Stark was something he always wanted. But he knew this new sense of security would eventually break… Why was he still here? Why was he still playing this game? After a few brief moments of quiet introspection, he knew why.

"Why do you go out of your own way for me?" He asked.

"Why does _anyone_?" Tony retorted, casually flipping through the magazine. A few seconds later, he set the magazine down and turned to face the doctor. "You're asking a question that's already been answered. Somethin' you want to tell me, Banner?" He leaned forward, eyes expectant and unwavering. Bruce hated that… Tony was the only person who could figure him out so easily. He could destroy what little boundaries the doctor had set… all with a simple look, or a few words. How does he do it? Perhaps that was his superpower. Whatever it was, it was working; it's been working since he met the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. "I've realized something," the doctor began. "I've realized that I'm sick of living the way I do. But I don't know how to live any other way; I'm not sure I _can_ live any other way. This…_ thing_ has been part of my life for a long time now. You're the only person who's completely accepted me, and I'm forever grateful for that." The sunlight had revealed the brilliant color of his eyes, as his attention once again turned to the window. He drew in a deep breath, and continued. "It may not look like it to you, but I'm actually very… happy around you. That is, until that realization settles in, that instinct I can't quite shake comes back to haunt me. It tells me to leave... _Leave before anyone gets hurt. _I've been planning on leaving ever since that day… but I never went through with it." A force of habit, his hand wandered to his head, and his fingers combed through his slightly peppered hair. Wow. He's hardly ever expressed himself to Tony. It felt pretty damn good. His gaze fell to the billionaire, who seemed to be processing everything he had said.

Tony squinted at him through calculating and inquisitive eyes. "I see… You need an incentive, something to build on… Here's an idea: _I'll _be your incentive." The doctor cracked a smile, placing a hand on the billionaire's shoulder. "I think you've already got that covered." "Ah, you're learning, Doctor. Now that you've had this revelation, are you gonna let me help you? Completely and without resistance?" Bruce wanted to refuse. He wanted to return back to a life of seclusion, where he knew no one would miss him. Wait… No he didn't. "Well?" Tony pressed, drawing closer to the doctor. Sighing, Bruce caved in. "Yeah, Tony. I'd like that."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN****: _Hey, I'm sooo sorry for the delay! :/ I had this stupid account crap I had to deal with my email account had been recycled so I had to create a new account "LoveOverEverythingElse." Kinda pissed, I got all my chapters up, but it looks like I stole them from someone else. Anyway, please enjoy the long awaited Chapter 7._**

_Seven Months Prior…_

_ Stark Tower. 8:37 PM._

_ Bruce desperately clasped his shoulders, trembling. It was happening again. He was tearing at the seams, he was losing it. But he **couldn't.** He didn't want to hurt anyone. He knelt to the polished tiled floor, desperately trying to calm himself. Why was he so angry? He couldn't remember. It didn't matter now. With each passing second, his burden grew more difficult to contain. It wanted out. _

_ Tony placed a metal-clad hand on his shoulder. He stared attentively at the doctor's crumpled form. "C'mon, Bruce. You have to work your way—"_

_ "If I could control it, I would, damn it!" The doctor snarled. With one swift movement, he shoved Tony into a nearby wall. The impact knocked the wind out him, and it took a moment to gain his footing. _

_ Bruce thought about apologizing, but now wasn't the time. "I'm warning you… Stay away or you **will** get hurt. The choice is out of my hands now." Tony approached the doctor a second time. "I'm not going anywhere, Bruce." "Then you're an **idiot**!" the doctor managed. He doubled over as his entire body was engulfed in wretched heat. God, it was a terrible sensation. Tony had to leave; he was trying his damnedest to keep the monster inside him at bay and was failing miserably. Within a few moments, blinding rage dominated any inkling of rationale the doctor had, and he finally lost it._

_ …_

_ Bruce had regained his physicality. He was overcome with dizziness and fatigue and was a second away from collapsing. The air was cool and dry. Holding his stretched pants around his waist, he took a gander at all the damage the Other Guy had caused. It was then he realized he was no longer in the Tower. He stood beside a building, staring on at the chaos of the city. Innocent people must have gotten hurt, or worse. "Damn it," he rasped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He then remembered Tony. Where was he? A faint cough a few feet behind him caught his attention. The doctor slowly turned, not quite sure what he would find. "Shit…!" Tony's suit was in shambles, no longer protecting him. His mortality made itself known as his face and body were covered in deep lacerations and bruises. And his leg… it was mangled, possibly beyond repair. Why had no one stopped him? Where were the reinforcements? The doctor felt entirely helpless. "I'm so sorry…" he sobbed._

Bruce had fallen asleep after another half hour of conversing with Tony. A good night's rest was hard to come by, so it was understandable. The pain in Tony's leg had dissipated long ago, but he decided to stick around a while longer. Pepper wasn't too happy with him anyway. He would make amends, but not just yet.

The doctor had been moving around quite a bit in his slumber. What was he dreaming about this time? Tony sighed. The poor guy couldn't get a break. "I'm sorry…" Bruce muttered, a doleful expression on his face. "Stop apologizing." Tony demanded under his breath. He leaned in closer, trying to decipher the occasional words the doctor spoke. "… I never meant to…" Though he's had his fair share of sleepless nights, it always struck a nerve to see the doctor grappling with his past night after night, day after day. It had to stop. Tony did the first thing that came to mind. It was a pretty daft move, but… He drew nearer to the doctor and soothingly ran his fingers through his curls; he was surprised by how soft the doctor's hair was. All admiration aside, it seemed to be working. Bruce no longer stirred in his sleep, and his expression gradually faded to neutrality. Tony knew he shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as he did, yet he never made an effort to move. The hell with it. There was no crime in comforting him. It wasn't often he got to see all of Bruce's defenses down, to see him as at peace as he was then. The billionaire shamefully enjoyed the fact that only he could instigate this side of the doctor.

"I don't suppose you have an explanation for this," Bruce chimed in. When the hell'd he wake up? Tony pulled away, ignoring the eyes he felt on him. "Well, _clearly_ I… You _obviously _needed…"

The doctor shook his head, amused. "Wow. I never thought I'd see the day. _Tony Stark_ stumbling over his words?"

"Me? No, I never stumble over my words. My words stumble over me."

Bruce nodded in mock understanding. "Hmm, yeah… I see." He stood, stretching. "But really, the gesture was… appreciated. Awkward, but appreciated."

A distasteful silence filled the guestroom. Both geniuses felt inclined to speak, but neither knew quite what to say. Bruce finally broke the silence with another question.

"How long was I out?"

"Not long," Tony clarified, "maybe twenty, twenty five minutes?"

The doctor hummed in acknowledgement. "This isn't the time to be sleeping anyway. Weren't you supposed to show me and Pepper the suit?" That's right. He would be taking it on a test flight in two short days. If it proved successful, Fury would get off his ass about it. Oh, and any extraterrestrial threats could be neutralized before they even reach the atmosphere. It was a win-win. Tony wasn't too fond of outer space, however. He'd had a lot of sleepless nights thanks to his first encounter. "…Right. Almost forgot." Bruce raised an inquisitive brow but asked nothing more of it.

"I'm making breakfast a little later. You want some?"

"Maybe. I'll see how I feel after my workout." Tony finally stood, stretching as well. "You should join me sometime. It isn't as daunting as it looks."

"I don't think so, Tony. That's not one of my strong points. I prefer to meditate."

That's something new. "Didn't know you were the spiritual type. You should teach me one day. You know, help me get in touch with my higher self, or whatever."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "I'm more of a collaborator. Teaching's not one of my strong points either."

Tony eyed him impatiently. "Oh, really? Well, I think it'd be _helpful_ if you opened up more." He also wouldn't mind learning some new things about the reserved doctor.

Bruce sighed.

The two geniuses sat across from each other, cross-legged. "I haven't done this in a long time so bear with me." The doctor lit a single candle between them. It smelled of lavender, one of his favorite scents. He closed his eyes and instructed the billionaire. "Now… I want you to focus on your breathing. Become aware of it." The doctor inhaled slowly, holding the breath before releasing it. He listened as Tony's breathing slowed as well. "Make sure you're breathing from your diaphragm, not from your chest. If your shoulders rise and fall as you breathe, try to correct it."

The other man scoffed.

"What?" Bruce inquired.

"You know, Bruce, sometimes I think you're just modest. You're doing a pretty damn good job so far."

"I'm not doing anything but what's expected."

"Please. Look at you. You're in your element. Why don't you do this more often?"

Because it stopped working for him. Whatever positive effects meditation had on the doctor eventually faded over time. His thoughts would never wander far from the dark corners of his mind.

The toxicity of his mentality eventually bled out into his reality, making days seemingly endless and nights unbearable. Psychiatric help wasn't an option, and meditation would be the last thing on his mind. He was very unstable at the time. Even now, there were still remnants of his darker self.

He'd been pushing these unpleasant aspects of himself down, burying them. It wasn't healthy; he knew that. But he also knew he wasn't strong enough emotionally or mentally to confront his past grievances, or anyone else's. At least, he couldn't do it alone. But it really wasn't something he wanted to burden his extroverted companion with.

He opened his eyes to find Tony staring at him attentively, almost… knowingly.

"You read me too well."

_"Pardon my intrusion, Sir, but don't you think it's time to get some rest? You've been awake for over 30 hours." _

"Gee, thanks for keeping count. Really appreciate it. Now be quiet. I'm in the zone."

_"Sir, the only thing that's keeping you 'in the zone' is the vast quantity of caffeine you've consumed over the past 5 hours."_

"Do you seriously want me to deactivate you? I'll do it, if that's what you want." A bandaged hand hovered over a large, transparent screen. Nothing more was heard from the AI. "That's what I thought." Tony got back to work, adding the finishing touches to his new suit. A barrage of new ideas urged him to keep at it.

_"Shut me down if you will, Sir, but you really should consider getting some sleep. There is a meeting tomorrow, after all._"

With a roll of his eyes, the engineer set his tools down. "Not sure I really care, Jarv."

_"What of Miss Potts? I'm sure she'd enjoy your company." _

After a few moments of consideration, he headed for the door. He couldn't believe how much he'd been neglecting Pepper. He hadn't really noticed, even when Bruce addressed it, face-to-face. Slapping his hand against his forehead, he sighed. There was no way he could avoid conflict if he kept things this way. It was impossible. He had to pull a "Bruce" and ignore whatever he felt. The billionaire headed up to the top floor only to find her asleep.

"I'm fucking horrible."

. . .

"Typical." The Captain rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers against the roundtable. The rest of the group was present… All except for Tony.

"Where the hell is he?" Fury inquired. "It's almost been half an hour."

"Ah, it could be anyone's guess," Hawkeye spoke up, fiddling with one of his arrows. "Obsessing over his latest project, face-down in the middle of the street… who knows?"

"Real funny." Tony interjected, entering the large room. He was obviously exhausted, and said nothing more as he unceremoniously plopped into an empty seat. He glanced around and found everyone staring at him. What the hell was their problem? "Um, hi. Let's get this over with. I'm sure none of us really wanna be here."

"Nice of you to finally join us. Seems you've seen better days. Anyway, it's good to see you again, Bruce. It's been a while." The doctor nodded, his attention focused on his watch. This wasn't his ideal way to spend the day, surrounded by fearful and pitying eyes. He didn't want to be feared. He didn't want to be pitied. He'd had enough of that. But Tony insisted that he come.

Fury continued in his booming voice. "I'm sure you all know why you're here. But just in case you haven't been filled in, it's because the team's getting a bit shaky. Now, I know we all got our own shit to do, but the only way we can do our jobs efficiently is through teamwork. So, starting tomorrow we're gonna do some training. That is, after Mr. Stark's newest project is taken for a test run." A noncommittal grunt came from the exhausted man. _Just another damn thing to worry about. _Perhaps the only one who would be the least bit enthused was handling affairs on Asgard. Not even his science companion showed an inkling of interest.

A rain shower blew into the area.

It was a beautiful nuisance.

The doctor had been on edge ever since the early morning. He'd broken away from the team some time ago, and wasn't quite sure what to expect. Returning to something he had run away from was never in the end... good. The doctor's pondering was made irrelevant as the first drops of water touched the concrete. It was a soothing inconvenience. There was no need for an umbrella, or maybe he just didn't want one. He welcomed it in, rather than shutting the proverbial door. This was everything like that day. No… It was nothing at all like it. He was content. Rays of golden light penetrated the clouds as the storm passed. He was content.


End file.
